The Woman Feminism Forgot

Rape

American pick-up artist Roosh V was the subject of a fierce attack in the UK Parliament recently. Awhile ago he published a provocative piece called How To Stop Rape in which he argued that rape should be legal if carried out on private property. This was an article along the same lines as the well-known satirical essay A Modest Proposal… in which Swift argued that the solution to poverty in Ireland was to eat babies. Recently, Roosh has added a disclaimer to his article and has called it a thought experiment; he probably didn’t think anybody would be so stupid as to take him literally.

The women who have been attacking Roosh – inside and outside of Parliament – are the usual suspects: privileged, high income, high maintenance, and high risk for any man who crosses swords with them. These wimmin argue incessantly about our mythical rape culture, the mythical gender pay gap, something they call sexism, and all manner of non-issues and trivialities, yet none of them ever does anything for women who need help, such as working mothers or women on benefits. If any of them do assist these women at any time, it is usually as a by-product of helping themselves. Which brings us to Anne Naysmith.

Anne Naysmith

Anne Naysmith

If you haven’t heard of her, she was an elderly woman who was killed in a road accident about a year ago, although an inquest into her death was held only recently. She was a woman who never needed feminism and the special privileges it seeks because she had a marketable talent: she was a classical pianist of some repute. As a girl, she was awarded a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music. She became a music teacher and also a performer, the highpoint of her career being a concert at London’s Wigmore Hall in 1967. However, her life disintegrated as she approached the age of forty, still unmarried although with a broken heart from a failed relationship behind her.

She was evicted from her home, and took to living in her car, something she would do for the next 26 years. That was towed away in 2002, after which she lived in a donated car and then finally as a regular tramp. She refused both hand-outs and sheltered accommodation; she wasn’t mentally ill, only a great English eccentric. There are though many women like her, women for whom feminism has offered nothing and done even less, however much toxic females like Ellen Pao may whine about women being systematically oppressed in the boardroom, and however many contrived statistics airhead members of the misnamed Women’s Equality Party may adduce in support of their crusade against the mythical patriarchy.

 

About the author

Alexander Baron